


august grit

by betweentwopines



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Din Djarin, Loneliness, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Planet Sorgan (Star Wars), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, copious amounts of ellipses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentwopines/pseuds/betweentwopines
Summary: august: dignified, noblegrit: determination, courageAfter the events of Season 2, the Mandalorian travels back to Sorgan. Din Djarin figures out what his future holds now. Omera discovers who she is meant to be. And Din and Omera find that their paths intersect more than they first thought.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend sent me a prompt for Din taking off his helmet in front of Omera after season 2 and things got out of hand and the writing muse went wild and things got a lot more complicated. So my dear friend gets an AU version of this story where the helmet comes off a whole lot sooner.  
> Anyway that’s the backstory for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

Din entered the coordinates into the nav computer before even really thinking it through. He was drifting in the nothingness of loss, unable to think without being drowned in sorrow. He’d been on countless missions before. Bounty hunter and Creed missions both, but none of them had caused him pain like this. None of them had shaken him to the foundation of his being. He...he didn’t know who he was anymore. 

And it terrified him. 

And on this mission, there was only one place where he felt safe, relaxed, and all he wanted was to go back there. (He didn’t really have anywhere else to go.) It was stupid and illogical. He knew that, but it didn’t matter. He had no obligations to anyone anymore. He was free to do as he liked. Cara Dune and her New Republic friends had told him so. True, he still had some things to figure out with the _other_ Mandalorians. A whole lot of things. The stupid darksaber was still in his possession, sitting on the empty crates in the cargo hold. And that’s where it would remain until he figured out a way to peacefully turn it over to Bo-Katan without having to fight her, but he figured it’d end up coming down to a fight. With him didn’t it always? 

And maybe that's part of the reason he sought out Sorgan now. He didn’t have to fight there. He didn’t have to resort to violence. He could be something...different...more...than the Mandalorian warrior he was trained to be. He could be something like what he was to Grogu. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as if that would stop the image of Grogu’s face, his little hands touching his cheek. And the Jedi taking him away. 

Din stood abruptly. He turned and walked back down the hall to the cargo bay. He hated this ship. Sure, it was a good ship. A good medium-sized freighter with weapons and good speed capabilities. But it wasn’t his _Crest._ It wasn’t his home. 

But at least the previous owner had set up a training simulation in the cargo bay. It provided Din with a distraction from his thoughts, and he used it often. He keyed up the simulation to the hardest level and let his mind sink into combat moves and strategic thought. Grogu was gone. He needed to move on.

…..

Omera sat on the porch watching the stars. The whole town was asleep except for her. It was a cold night, the spring days having faded to winter months ago. But now in a few weeks, spring would begin again. Maybe then Omera could finally relax. It had been months, a year actually, since they had fended off the pirate attack. Since the Mandalorian and his friend had come and saved their village. They spared their village but at cost to the others.

Tonight was a quiet night. There were no screams that carried through the air, nor explosions or blasterfire. It was quiet. That meant the pirates weren’t attacking the other villages tonight. Everyone was safe for now. Omera knew it was only a matter of time before the pirates came back to their village, before they realized that without the Mandalorian here the villagers actually couldn’t mount a good defense. She wanted to believe in her fellow townspeople. She wanted to believe that when the moment came they could rally together, but without practice skills gets rusty. Without practice, teams forget how to work together. Without practice, teams get slaughtered. 

Omera stood and reached for her empty glass of spotchka. She’d need to get some rest lest Winta’s concerned eyes follow her around the next day. She stepped toward the door but stopped at the faint rumbling sound she heard. She turned around, looking for the source of the sound. Was it a speeder? A ship? The pirates? Her fingers inched toward the blaster on her belt, the one she’d been carrying since she realized the pirates had only been weakened and not stopped. The villagers thought her paranoid, but she knew they heard the explosions at night too. 

There was a glint of metal in the sky, reflecting the moonlight, but as quickly as she saw it, it blended into the darkness again. Just a passing ship, she reassured herself. It wasn’t pirates. But the rumble of the ship’s engines didn’t fade out as it moved on. It abruptly stopped. Like the ship had landed. There was nowhere to land around here except the forest. And there was nothing around for miles but their town. 

Omera hurried inside and set down her cup on the counter, eyes passing over Winta’s still sleeping form. She turned and grabbed her rifle from its place above the door. She loaded it and stepped out onto her porch, moving quickly over to her barn and hoisting herself up into the loft. She moved aside a patch of the roof. This was her little spot where at night she could watch the perimeter facing the forest and keep an eye out for pirates. This is what she did when she couldn’t sleep. Her paranoia was worrying Winta and Neuhal, and it had begun to worry herself as well, that’s why for the past few weeks she’d taken to sipping spotchka on the porch and watching the stars rather than the perimeter. She wasn’t this town’s guardian angel, she was just a widowed mother. But something in her had awakened when the Mandalorian had arrived and had stayed awake long after he left. She wondered if she’d ever get her peaceful life back. She wondered if she had just been fooling herself for years in thinking she could ever escape her past. 

She aimed her rifle through the hole in the thatched roof and looked through the scope. There was no movement from the edges of the forest, and as she continued to watch there was still no movement. After a while, she began to wonder if her sleep-deprived mind had conjured up the sound of the ship landing. Maybe Neuhal was right about Omera’s paranoia getting the best of her. Sighing, she moved down from the loft and out of the barn. All was quiet.

Omera walked back to her hut and found Winta sleeping softly, the whole village sleeping softly. Omera was the only one awake. Poor, paranoid, Omera. She shook her head. Blast that Mandalorian for showing up. She placed her rifle back in its spot above the door and moved to her daughter’s bedside. The only good thing about him showing up was that her daughter was safe. 

_For now,_ a traitorous and paranoid part of her brain whispered.

…..

Din wakes with his usual crick in his neck from sleeping in a pilot’s chair. He groans and stretches out his achy muscles. He turns around to look for the kid before the realization hits him. This isn’t the _Crest._ The kid’s not with him anymore. The kid is gone. Safe, but gone. Din turns back toward the controls in front of him and makes sure the ship is secure.

It’s barely daylight now. He managed to get a few hours rest. He honestly didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but he was glad that he had managed to get a little rest. It added to the few hours he’d gotten over the past few days since things had settled down after their attack on Gideon’s star cruiser. 

Din hadn’t wanted to enter the village in the dead of night. That would be rude and probably startling, not to mention no one might be awake. And he wasn’t quite ready for the questions he knew they’d have for him. 

He made his way to the cargo hold and unlocked the door. He stepped outside and noticed that it was colder than the last time he’d been here. The seasons must change on Sorgan. If his helmet was off, he’d be able to see his breath. He shudders, blames it on the cold, knows it’s because of his thoughts. He shouldn’t even be wearing the helmet now. Not after what happened. It’s the Creed. Once the helmet is removed he can never put it back on again. He knows this. But still, the helmet keeps sliding back over his head. He justifies this with the thoughts of those _other_ Mandalorians removing their helmets. But it’s still a betrayal of his Creed and he knows it, but he just can’t deal with that right now. 

He wonders what in the worlds he’s doing here. He needs to find another bounty hunting gig. He needs to get his body and mind moving toward a goal, and eventually, it’ll be enough to forget everything. But that little green child...just as he could never forget the day his parents died, he’ll be haunted by Grogu too. And no amount of bounties can make that memory disappear. 

He hears a movement to his right, realizes he’s paused in the middle of the forest, his ship a couple hundred yards behind him, and slings out his blaster with precision, lining up the target in his sights. 

The man lets out a small yelp and jumps, the objects in his hands clattering to the ground. Din recognizes the man as one of the one’s from Omera’s village, but he’s long since forgotten his name. He holsters his weapon. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. 

The man nods and bends down to pick up his things. Din goes over to help him, gathering the items that had fallen out of the man’s reach. He hands them to him, and the man puts them back in his basket. 

“Sorry to startle you. I just saw the gleam of that armor and went to investigate. Then I realized it was you.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face. “Good to see you again.” 

Din just nods. The man gets to his feet and lifts up his basket. 

“I’m heading to the common house. I’m sure we can get you some food there. Or you can head back toward the village. I...hey where’s the kid?” 

Din turned away from him, the question piercing his heart. He wasn’t ready to answer that. Or maybe he only wanted to answer the question when it came from one certain person in this podunk village. 

“I’ll head to the village.” He kept walking in the direction he had been going before the man startled him. 

Din made it to the edge of the forest and kept walking. There weren’t any farmers in the ponds, but that made sense considering the cold temperature. 

He didn’t have a direction in mind, he really didn’t, but still, he ended up in front of her hut. He turned away at the last second, looking out over the rest of the village. He was pleased to see no damage to huts or buildings. It meant that the pirates had stayed away. It meant his mission here had been successful. It meant this place was safe. If it weren’t for the price on his and the kid’s head, it would’ve been peaceful to stay here. Just as he knew it would. 

There was the creak of wood behind him and he turned rapidly. Omera and Winta stood on the porch to their hut. Winta grew excited at the sight of him. 

“You’re back.” She grinned and her eyes darted around, looking for someone that wasn’t coming. Din’s heart broke just a little more. 

“Kid’s not with me,” he said quickly. He didn’t look at Omera. 

“Winta, honey, go on to Neuhal’s place. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Winta opened her mouth to protest then quickly shut it and nodded. She slowly walked away, and Din’s visor followed her movement until he found the hut she was aiming toward. Neuhal had a girl a year younger than Winta. Last time Din was here, the two of them disliked each other. Din couldn’t tell if that had changed or not.

“Come inside,” Omera invited and turned to reenter her hut, letting Din follow at his own pace. He took the first few steps and stayed in the threshold, unable to enter. Unable to face her questions. Unable to face the fact that he was alone again. 

“Here.” She handed him a mug of hot tea. It warmed his hands through the gloves. He hadn’t realized how cold his hands were. 

“Thank you.” He finally looked at her. She had dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders high with tension. She looked different. She’d changed her hair too. It no longer fell down her back but was braided. And there was a blaster on her belt. 

“What are you doing back here?” she asked. 

“Why are you caring a blaster?” 

Her lips quirked, not quite up, but not down. “I asked you first.” 

Din looked away, staring at the wall beside them. He opened his mouth but no words came out, and he found that tears were slipping down his cheeks. 

“Where’s your boy?” she asked quieter, softer. 

“He’s with his own kind. Where he belongs.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Din turned to look at her, only seeing patience and kind worry. He cleared his throat. “The kid’s got these powers. Same kind that the sorcerors, the Jedi, have. He’s one of them now. He’ll be trained and able to control his powers, and he’ll be safe.” 

Omera’s face changed with understanding. “That must’ve been hard. To give him up.” 

Din nodded. “It’s where he belongs.” 

Omera was quiet. It was so quiet here. So peaceful. And now that’d he’d gotten the truth out it wasn’t so heart-pounding. It really was relaxing. 

“Then why are you here?” 

“I...I don’t know.” 

“What about your Mandalorians?” she asked, and Din tensed one more. How come she always asked the worst questions, the ones he never really knew how to answer and always had to fumble through?

And when he opened his mouth to speak the truth came out. “I don’t belong with them.” He hated that truth. Hated not knowing where he belonged. But he didn’t. He had broken the Creed, and he...he would break it a thousand times over for the child. 

“You won’t find belonging here.” Omera had a resolute look on her face. “You won’t be able to relax.” She motioned to the sink. “The villagers will be happy to see you. Finish your tea, and go say hi. I’ll be at Neuhal’s hut.” 

She left the hut, leaving Din to wonder over her words. Last time he was here, she had asked him to stay. She had been open and warm and everything he wanted but couldn’t have. Now she was closed off, different in a way Din couldn’t yet name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta read so I apologize for any typos! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and thank you to those that already left kudos and comments! It means so much to me!!

Omera had kept her distance from the Mandalorian since he had arrived, letting the other villagers have their say. She didn’t know how to explain her hunches that the village wasn’t safe. How to explain that the raiders would return. How to ask for his help. How to face his disbelief, his dismissal, the decline of him thinking highly of her. 

Omera found Winta playing with the other children in the village after dinner. She observed her from a distance before moving on. 

Jan’uk hadn’t come back from his trip into town and the villagers were getting worried. Jan’uk wasn’t one to stay out late in town nor was he one to leave his family for too long. Jan’uk was allergic to alcohol, so drinking was out of the question. And his wife was expecting a baby so delaying for any reason was out of the question. 

Neuhal told her she was paranoid, that Jan’uk would show up in a few hours, but that had been hours ago. Darkness would fall soon, and Jan’uk had not returned. Omera sensed trouble. Maybe Neuhal was right. Maybe she was letting her paranoia get the best of her, but she couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong, that it was only a matter of time before their peaceful life was shaken up once again. 

So with the Mandalorian in their village and Winta playing with the other children, safe and sound, she set off into the forest. Why she had to be the one to investigate she didn’t really want to acknowledge. She didn’t want to recognize the way she was tired of sitting still in her quiet village. The way her blood hummed under her skin, ready for some action, ready for something right out of a past she had left behind. And she couldn’t say no, knowing that the Mandalorian was in the village, and should anything happen to Winta he’d be there to protect her. 

She didn’t know why she moved in the direction of where she knew the raider camp was instead of town, but she did. Her instincts had never failed her before. Last night as a prime example. She’d known she’d seen a ship. 

Omera found the camp quiet and peaceful, like everything on this planet. And like this planet, it was all temporary. She slipped past the guards, her rifle in her hands, primed and ready for her to raise it and fire at any moment. She hadn’t taken a life since that attack a year ago, but she was prepared to do it once more if she had to. But only if she had to. She slipped into a tent and there he was. 

Jan’uk was bloodied and tied up, and his eyes lit up when he saw her, then his entire face scrunched up with worry. 

“Omera, what are you doing here?” he whispered harshly. 

“Getting you back home.” She slipped a knife from her belt and sliced the ties binding him. “We’ll slip out the back. Why’d they take you?” 

Jan’uk swallowed. “To get information on the village. That’s why no one is here. They’re going to attack us tonight.” 

Omera felt fear overtake her. _Winta._

“We have to get back and warn them.” Jan’uk reached for her arm. She helped pull him to his feet. 

Omera went over the catalog of things she had seen while entering the camp. A speeder. With guns. She had the beginnings of a plan, and her blood itched for a fight. No one was laying a hand on her daughter tonight. 

“How long ago did the raiders leave?” Old instincts that never died came to life once more, calculating, strategizing, finding a way out and back to the village. 

“An hour, maybe more?” 

It was a wonder she hadn’t ran across the raiders in the woods. They would be approaching the village far too soon. 

“Alright. We’re going to need to steal a speeder.” She pocketed her knife and kept her rifle up. “Follow me.” 

She moved out of the hut and checked around. She could see the speeder. She motioned Jan’uk to follow her, and he did. They reached the speeder without anyone seeing them. It had twin mounted guns on the front and an open-air design. She leapt over the side and placed the rifle in the back seat. Jan’uk clambered over the side, keeping his head low. She hadn’t hotwired a speeder in years. Memories assaulted her, but she pushed them away. Now wasn’t the time. She had to get to Winta. She had to warn the village. 

The speeder started with a low rumble. 

“Hang on,” she advised and pushed the accelerator forward. They were low on time. She shot out of the camp and heard shouts behind her but kept going, weaving in and out of the trees. She made a sharp right and heard an explosion behind her. 

“Where’d you learn to pilot like this? That other speeder couldn’t make that turn.” 

Omera didn’t answer. Now wasn’t the time for _that_ discussion and never would be. She pushed the speeder through the trees, glad that they weren’t being followed anymore. 

There was a loud bang that shook rumbled along the ground. Light flared up past the trees in the direction of their village. She swallowed back her fear. Winta would be okay. The Mandalorian was there. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He’d protect the village like he had last time. She had to believe that. 

The speeder tore out of the forest, and she could see the raiders on the edge of the village. 

“Head down,” she ordered and opened fire on the nearest raiders. Every shot was accurate and lethal. She barreled through the three in front of the main entrance to town and turned the speeder around. “Jan’uk, go!” 

She heard a sound and fire rained out of the sky toward the remaining pirates. The Mandalorian. 

Jan’uk ran from the speeder. She found Resti firing out too, his aim off. She hopped out of the speeder. She knew he had once been a pilot. 

“Resti, you want the speeder?” 

He nodded and jumped in. Now he was making an impact. She took off at a run toward Neuhal’s hut. She had barely reached the door when Winta exited, grabbing onto her legs tightly and sobbing. 

“Shh, shh.” Omera knelt, gently setting the rifle down. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Winta buried her head in her shoulder. “We couldn’t find you.” 

“I’m here. I’m here.” She held her daughter as she sobbed. “It’s alright. I’m here.” 

Neuhal appeared at the door. “Omera…where…” 

“I’m here now,” she repeated for both Neuhal and Winta’s sakes. 

Winta sniffled and moved back, so she could look at Omera. Omera looked into her daughter's eyes. “Winta, I’m alright.” 

Winta nodded. “You’re alright.” 

Omera smiled. “And so are you.” She gave her another hug and pulled away. “Stay here with Neuhal. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Winta’s face scrunched up and she shook her head. “No, no, I want you to stay.” 

Omera could see how scared Winta was. The other attacks hadn’t scared her this much, but that had been over a year ago and Omera had been by her side to ensure her of her safety. Omera hadn’t been there tonight.

Omera looked back toward the firefight and saw the glint of beskar and knew the Mandalorian was coming back to the village. He wouldn’t turn his back if there were still enemies behind him. 

“Alright.” Omera stood. “Let’s go inside.” 

Jan’uk could tell the rest of the village what had happened. She picked up her rifle and stepped inside. Neuhal closed the door behind them. Winta moved over to the small kitchen table and sat. Neuhal moved to the kitchen and came back out with two glasses of water. She handed one to Winta and set the other in the chair beside her. Omera nodded and placed the rifle by the door, clicking the safety on. She sat down, and Winta soon crawled into her lap. Omera held her close as Winta drank her water. 

Soon Winta’s head lolled to the side, and Omera realized she was asleep. Guilt hit her as she realized her child had been terrified the whole time when she couldn’t find her mother when the raiders attacked. 

“Here.” Neuhal grabbed a blanket and pointed at the one chair they had in their living area. “She can sleep here.” 

Omera lifted Winta and gently placed her in the chair. Neuhal placed the blanket over her, and Winta stayed asleep. 

Neuhal walked over to the other side of the hut, nearest the door, and Omera followed. 

“Where were you?” Neuhal asked, worry in her eyes. 

“I had to find Jan’uk.” 

“Omera.” Neuhal shook her head. “What is with you lately? Jan’uk was just in town and–”

“He wasn’t. The raiders had him tied up at their camp. We tried to make it back in time to warn the village about the attack.” 

“Raiders? I thought...I thought the Mandalorian took care of them.” 

“Neuhal, you know they’re still out there. They just aren’t attacking our village. It was only a matter of time before they did.” 

Neuhal was silent a moment, only staring at Omera. Omera looked away and focused on her sleeping child. 

“Sometimes, I don’t think I know you. You’re paranoid, O. You just happened to be right about them attacking and about Jan’uk. But that doesn’t make you carrying a blaster everywhere you go right. You shoot one target and suddenly you’re this village’s protector? You aren’t the Mandalorian. He didn’t stay for you. Get over it.” 

Omera let her hard gaze settle on her friend. A part of her knew Neuhal was just venting frustrations, that Omera had been different since the Mandalorian left, but she didn’t want to face that truth now. She didn’t need Neuhal reminding her that she was different. She knew that. That didn’t help her figure out how to go back to the person she was. 

“I’ll let Winta sleep. I need to go help out.” She turned to the door.

“Omera, wait.” 

Omera didn’t wait, but she did leave her rifle standing by the door. The danger had passed. She wouldn’t need it. She hurried down the steps and saw the fire a few yards away. The villagers had gathered around it, and she saw the glint of Mandalorian armor. She moved in that direction. 

“Omera.” Resti grabbed her hand and dragged her forward, “See, I told you she’s fine.” 

Omera looked around at the villagers. “What are our losses?” 

“Not much. The Mandalorian put a stop to the raiders.” There were smiles at that sentence from Jan’uk. “Only a few bruises and scrapes. No serious injuries.” 

“That’s good news. So we’ll start repairs in the morning?” The villagers would need their rest. Excitement like this wasn’t something they were used to. 

“Omera, can I talk to you?” The Mandalorian spoke, his voice cold. 

She nodded and followed him away from the group. Once they were out of the group’s hearing distance he turned around to face her. By the tense set of his shoulders, she could tell he was upset, but hopefully not too angry. She should’ve warned him about the potential for a raider attack, but she didn’t want him to think her as paranoid as the rest of the village did. 

“What happened here?” 

Omera figured that he’d already been informed of the series of events from Jan’uk. That wasn’t what he was asking. He was asking why she was gone when the raiders attacked. 

“Jan’uk was in trouble. I went to find him.” 

“You can’t just enter a raider stronghold.” 

“It’s camp. Not a stronghold. And I was fine. I got Jan’uk and the speeder. I just wish I could’ve made it back in time to warn everyone. I’m glad you were here.” 

The Mando was silent for a minute, before speaking. “You’re different.” 

Omera huffed out a laugh at that. “Everyone changes over time.” 

“Yes, but you carry a blaster on your hip now.” 

She sighed. It was explanation time. “The raiders didn’t disappear after you left. I’ve heard them attacking other villages at night. They only moved their attacks to the cover of darkness, and they have left us alone, until now. They’re greedy. I knew it was only a matter of time.” 

“Then I’ll make them stop.” 

Omera shook her head. “They have a stronghold, not a camp, about 20 miles west of here. They prey on villages across the planet. You can’t stop them.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me this last time I was here? We would’ve attacked that.” 

“I didn’t know at the time. I ran some scouting trips after you left and found it.” 

“Scouting trips? Why?”

“Because of you. I can’t just sit still anymore.” She looked in the direction of the forest. “I know they’re out there, and before it was easy just to hide, to protect Winta and the other kids. Now…now I see them in my dreams. I see them burning the village down.” She looked at his visor. “The others call me paranoid.” She looked away. “I feel like I am, but I can’t let my guard down anymore. I know what’s coming.” 

The Mandalorian was quiet for some time. Omera focused on her breathing, relaxation techniques she had learned long ago, once second nature to her after a fight, now like relearning something she used to know by route. 

“I’ll scout out the stronghold in the morning. See what I can do.” 

She looked at him. “I didn’t ask that of you.” 

“The village didn’t ask you to be its sole protector either.” 

That brought a bit of a warm fluttery feeling to Omera’s stomach. It wasn’t a dismissal of her hunches. It was acceptance. He had always accepted her, and it seemed that hadn’t changed. She should’ve told him everything the moment he arrived. Why had she feared he would think less of her? He wasn’t like the rest of the village. He was altogether different. It’s what drew her to him in the first place. That and his warm nature toward his boy. 

“We’ll have to see what the rest of the village says. If they agree to support this endeavor, we should have the money to pay you because of the lack of raider attacks over the past year.”

“But other villages are still suffering?” 

“But not ours, so it’s not our problem,” she repeated what the village leaders had said.

Mando nodded, understanding what she was saying. “But now the raiders attack your village, so the village leaders will agree to put a stop to the raiders.” 

“All people are selfish...but not everyone is out for money.” 

The Mandalorian’s helmet studied her. _He_ studied her. She wondered how she sounded to him. Different, she knew. He’d already said as much, but she wondered if he still felt tempted by her, if he still was inclined to look her way more often than not. 

She knew she still was. True, she wasn’t as ready to have him settled down and stay here, in fact, she no longer knew if she wanted that at all, but she did admire the man. Her eyes still turned toward his figure. 

But things had changed. She had changed. A relationship with the Mandalorian wasn’t something she was sure she wanted anymore. Not when she no longer knew who she was, who she was becoming.


	3. Chapter 3

Din kept watch for a few hours more after the raider attack before allowing himself to drift off to sleep, his head on the outside wall of Omera’s hut, his butt on the porch. It wasn’t the most uncomfortable position he’d slept in. He’d slept in worse while trying to keep the kid safe. And maybe because of that familiarity he was able to fall asleep, able to dream. 

_The darksaber flared to life right above Grogu’s head. Dark blade burning with white along the edges. It wasn’t natural-looking, but neither was the expression on the face of the man wielding the unnatural weapon. Gideon looked manic with glee, like this was a moment he’d been waiting for._

_Din panicked. Not the kid. Not the kid. Not the kid. He’d do anything. Give up anything. Nothing mattered but making sure the kid was safe. Nothing mattered but this one thing._

_“Anything you want,” slipped raw from Din’s throat._

_“I only want your obedience. Your devotion. Your Creed pledged to me.” A pause, for dramatic effect or because he was truly thinking, Din couldn’t tell. Either way it kept him on edge, waiting for the blade to fall, or a second trap to be sprung. “Subservient. Following blindly.”_

_That’s not the Creed, Din wanted to shout. But that trickle of doubt made him unsure._

_“Take off the helmet.” Din turned to look behind him. Valin Hess stood behind him. The second trap had been sprung. “You’ll want to see his brown eyes sparkle with pain.”_

_The darksaber swung toward him, and Din refocused on Gideon. “Take off the helmet or the child dies.” The darksaber swung back over Grogu’s head before Din had time to move._

_“He’ll do it,” Hess assured. “He’s not truly loyal to anything. Din Djarin a fraud. A liar. Not worthy to protect the kid.”_

_Din couldn’t move, paralyzed in fear, in doubt. Would the kid die? Was Din a liar? A fraud? Was he worthy to protect the kid? Wasn’t there someone better out there in the galaxy? What did Din even know about childcare?_

_“Fine.” The darksaber came down. Din screamed._

“Hey.” 

The loud voice broke through his scattered thoughts, his dreamy state, and he saw a hand reaching toward his helmet and reacted. His hand shot out, wrapping around the arm and wrenching it down, the body followed but to Din’s surprise, it wasn’t Hess or Gideon. It was a woman. And she was fighting back. Din grunted as her kick sent him flying off the porch. He landed hard on the dirt, a groan escaping his lips. 

“Oh my stars.” He made out the horrified whisper as he pushed himself to his feet. He looked over to find Omera standing on the porch, apology written on her face. 

He smiled, finding himself in awe of her strength and fighting skills rather than dwelling on his dream. “Good hit.” 

“I’m so sorry. I just–”

“It’s okay.” He held up a hand. “Sorry for grabbing you.” 

Omera moved off the porch to his side. “I heard you scream. I didn’t–I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” That was embarrassing. The only other person that had ever heard him scream was Cara. And the kid. At least Cara understood him. She knew all about nightmares. 

“Let me make you some tea.” She moved back to the porch, and Din noticed the rifle on the ground. She picked it up and stepped back inside. He went back through the events that had transpired. She’d heard him scream and had come outside with a gun, ready to fight. Din rubbed at his gut, where he was sure to have a bruise. Somehow she had landed her kick right below his breastplate where he was unprotected. 

He couldn’t explain why that made him grin like a fool once more. He was glad for his helmet now, even if he wasn’t altogether sure he should be allowed to wear it. 

Din followed Omera inside and saw Winta sitting in one of the kitchen chairs. He could tell she was still spooked. He wasn’t sure how to ease that, so he simply sat down beside her. Omera set a cup of water in front of Winta. 

“Breadcakes okay for breakfast?” she asked, gently placing her hand on the girl’s head. 

Winta nodded. “Do we have any more berry syrup?”

“You’ll have to go check the pantry.” 

Winta left her seat and walked over to a small door on the other side of the room. She opened the door and reached inside the modest pantry. She pulled out a full bottle of a dark liquid and brought it back to the table. 

“Berry syrup. It was brought in by traders. It’s delicious,” Winta explained to Din.

“Here.” Omera set a cup of tea down in front of him. 

His hands wrapped around it, the warmth from the cup seeping past the fabric of his gloves to his skin. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until he felt warmth.

Omera finished cooking, and Winta grew more animated, explaining the proper way to eat breadcakes. That you had to stack two cakes on top of each other and drizzle berry syrup in the middle and sugar on top. She still hadn’t forgiven Din for telling her that he ate his with no syrup or sugar, and as she ate, she tried to persuade Din that her way was right and his way was silly. It created a warm feeling in his chest that was far more powerful than the meager warmth from the cup of tea.

Soon breakfast was over, and Winta’s friends came to invite her over for the day. Omera allowed her to go, and Din was alone with Omera. She sat down at the table across from him. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve set up the barn for you last night. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“It was fine,” Din reassured her. It had been cold, but bearable. 

She shook her head with a wry smile. “How did you not freeze?” 

“I’ve slept colder.” This was nothing compared to that snowball of a planet haunted by alien spiders. He’d almost lost the kid then. Sometimes he still had nightmares about that. He curled his hands around the mug, the warmth long gone. 

Without Winta’s chatter, it was quiet now. Quiet enough for Din’s mind to go back to the nightmare. 

Din looked down at the drink in his hand and wondered what would happen if he took off his helmet right now. Before, it meant that he would stay here. He would give up the Mandalorian Way and bounty hunting and live a peaceful life. Now he wasn’t sure what it would mean. 

“When will you scout out the stronghold?” 

Din was good for one thing now. Fighting. He was a warrior. He’d sacrificed his ways for the kid but now that he was gone, there was no reason to keep sacrificing those ways. They were all he had left, even if he’d lost his faith in them now. 

“I’ll leave now. I’ll head back to the ship and grab some things. See if I can’t take the speeder you stole.” He stood and made to move toward the door. 

“You’ll need to eat first,” Omera reminded. 

“I’m fine.” Omera had already given him tea. He had food on the ship he could eat. The New Republic had been gracious enough to give him a small supply of necessities. Din doubted the New Republic even knew they had done it. It was likely all Cara’s doing. 

“You did the right thing by your boy.” He stilled at the change in topic. “Will you be able to visit him?” 

Din swallowed. “No.” The kid needed to train without distractions. 

“But you will see him again?” 

“Yes.” Din had promised, and he wouldn’t break that promise. 

After a pause, Omera gave him a small smile. “Last time you were here, you seemed to like my breadcakes? Did that change?” 

“No.” 

“Then sit and eat.” 

The smile on her face was warm and welcoming. She looked more like the person he’d known a year ago. The person that made Din’s heart beat just a little bit faster, as it was doing now. 

“I’ll leave. I need to go see what needs to be done around the village anyway.” 

“I can eat in the barn.” He wasn’t going to kick her out of her own home just so he could eat. 

“The barn’s cold.” Omera smiled and turned back to the oven. He studied her for a moment. Watching as she gathered and mixed ingredients. He was helpless to say no, and when his stomach grumbled it made his decision. 

He moved over to the table, grabbed his mug, and moved over to the counter. He refilled his mug of tea and went back to sit at the table, this time at a position where he could face the door. 

The warmth of the mug was nice. The warmth of the hut was nice. The warmth of Omera was nice. He leaned in closer to the mug, letting the steam fog up his helmet.

…..

Din had decided to take his new ship in to scout out the raider stronghold. He could do a flyover and then park a ways away and head in on foot if needed. But his ship had decent scanning abilities, better than the _Crest,_ he had to reluctantly admit.

He lifted off and was soon overtop the raider stronghold. It was in the middle of a clearing and heavily guarded, but Din had taken on more heavily guarded. He’d taken on an entire star cruiser. He’d had backup at the time though, and he knew he was going to need some now. There were plenty of armed speeders and ground troopers, but the stronghold was vulnerable to air attack. If Din could get Fett in on this, they would have no problem taking out the stronghold, burning it to the ground. Fennec and Cara could pick off the stragglers from the tree line if needed. 

Din turned the ship back toward the village, confident in his plan. He punched in Cara’s comm code first. She answered as he landed the ship. 

“How’s the beautiful widow?” Cara was the only one that knew where he had gone. 

“In trouble.” 

Cara’s teasing expression shifted. “What’s wrong?”

“The raiders are back. There’s a stronghold to the west. I think I can take it out.” 

“And you want my help,” she drawled with a smile. 

“It would be nice to have ground support. The stronghold is vulnerable to air attack. I’m thinking about bringing in Fett for this.” 

Cara laughed. “Good luck. I hear he set up base on Tatooine. Seems he’s a crime lord now.” 

“What?” His surprise gave way to grudging respect. Better than living out in the wastes of the deserts doing nothing. At least now the guy’s got a good setup. 

“Took over Fortuna’s operation, and it's running quite smoothly now from what I hear.” 

That might mean he wouldn’t need the villagers' few funds and would refuse the job. Din sighed. He supposed he didn’t really need Fett’s help. He had just gotten accustomed to having backup. He sighed. He needed to shake that mindset. He was a lone bounty hunter. He didn’t get the luxury of backup on every job. 

“I’ll be there next rotation,” Cara spoke quickly. 

“Thank you.” 

“I gotta run. See ya soon.” The comm cut out, and Din stood from his seat, not bothering to call Fett. He could do this on his own. Cara would provide the necessary backup, and it’d be over soon. _Then what?_ He didn’t have a real reason to be here. He’d been drawn here based on emotions nothing more. That wasn’t like him. He was more logical than that. Or he used to be. Before the kid. Now look at him, lonely and blindly reaching for help. 

This kind of loneliness was different though. Missing the kid was one thing. That was new, different, unexpected. But missing...friends...he should be used to that. He had left people behind before. He’d left his covert behind a hundred times. Left his friends there behind. Except...except now after meeting Cara and Bo-Katan, he wondered if those he thought of as friends were ever really his friends. Bo-Katan had shaken his belief system. Cara had shaken his belief in what a friend was. Cara was always there for him, and he trusted her completely. He asked her to jump for the kid, and she said how high. He’d always had to plead his case to get his covert to help him. It’s why he hardly ever asked anymore and now...well now the covert was in hiding. Din didn’t know where, and no one had contacted him to inform him. Yet, at least. 

But Din didn’t have his covert, he didn’t have his ship, he didn’t have a safe place to land. But on Sorgan...on Sorgan he had felt safe, so he’d come back. He’d come back to find that it wasn’t safe. He came back and found a mission. He’d come back and felt secure. He could work with a mission. He knew how to fight. He was a warrior. He wasn’t...a father. Those that had said that were wrong. He was only completing a mission, and now he had another. And once he was finished here, he would go find the covert, and he’d explain that he’d accomplished his mission. He’d find more bounties, and soon everything that happened with the kid would be just a memory that haunted him. One day, he’d get back to the kid. One day, he’d see him again, but Din knew that’d be a long time. And until then, he would fight. He was a Mandalorian after all. Warriors to the end.


End file.
